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The  Prodigal's  Prayer 


The  Prodigal's  Prayer 


BY 


Rev.  CHAS.  HERBERT  SCHOLEY,  M.A.,  B.D. 


New  York        Chicago        Toronto 

Fleming  H.  Revell  Company 

Publishers  of  Evangelical  Literature 


Copyright,  1899 

by 

FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 


DEDICATED 

AS  A 

TOKEN  OF  LOVE 

TO 

MY  FATHER  AND  MY  MOTHER 
C.  H.  S. 


Contents 


PAGB 

The  Prodigal's  Prayer         .        .    9 
Fishers  of  Men  .       .       .       .41 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 


The  text  is  in  the  seventh  chapter  of  the  gos- 
pel according  to  St.  Matthew,  the  seventh  verse, 
— "  ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you ;  seek,  and  ye 
shall  find;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto 
you." 

Do  Christians  possess  a  magical 
charm  or  talisman?  Alladin  of  the 
Arabian  Knights  could  rub  a  ring  or  a 
lamp  and  food,  treasures,  palaces  were 
his.  Every  want  was  satisfied.  Life 
is  universally  the  creation  of  wants 
and  then  the  attempt  to  satisfy  them. 
Did  Christ  promise  a  panacea  for  all 
these  longings  ? 

That  marvellous  sermon  on  the 
mount  is  packed  full  of  principles  ac- 
cording to  which  we  should  order  our 
lives.  It  is  full  of  suggestions  by 
9 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

which  we  can  make  living  easier  and 
better  for  ourselves  and  for  others. 
Then  we  have  a  great  secret  of  suc- 
cess here  in  the  words  of  the  text? 
Can  we  simply  ash,  and  thus  possess 
happiness  ?  Can  we  simply  seek,  and 
thus  get  wealth  ?  Can  we  simply 
knock,  and  thus  have  opened  to  us  an 
abiding  place  of  peace  ?  Does  Christ 
promise  this  ? 

Of  course  you  will  remember  that 
these  words  according  to  St.  Mark 
were  uttered  by  Jesus  after  He  had 
taught  the  disciples  the  Lord's  prayer. 
So  they  bear  on  the  question  of  prayer, 
but  cannot  mean  that  all  the  disciples' 
wishes  without  distinction,  even  those 
which  are  unwarranted  and  pernicious, 
shall  be  fulfilled.  Jesus  has  only  de- 
clared that  the  asking  and  the  seeking 
shall  receive  an  answer.  But  whether 
it  will  be  precisely  what  was  sought 
for  is  another  question.  Indeed  some- 
thing entirely  different  from  that  de- 
sired may  be  the  petitioner's  portion. 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

"What  man  is  there  of  you,  whom 
if  his  son  ask  bread,  will  he  give  him 
a  stone?"  (Matt.  vii.  9.)  Surely  a 
father  would  not  be  so  heartless  as  in 
mockery  to  give  his  hungry  son  a 
stone!  Yet  a  son  does  not  always  get 
what  he  asks.  Nor  do  men  in  general 
get  what  they  seek.  Nor  do  Chris- 
tians for  their  knocking  have  doors 
opened  through  their  difficulties.  Yet 
why  should  not  these  sincere  desires 
be  granted?  For  "if  ye  then,  being 
evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts 
unto  your  children,  how  much  more 
shall  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven 
give  good  things  to  them  that  ask 
Him?"  (Matt.  vii.  11.) 

A  desire  may  seem  simple  and  safe 
enough  to  grant  according  to  human 
wisdom.  But  as  Jesus  only  gives  as- 
surance that  the  heavenly  Father  will 
give  good  things  to  them  that  ask, 
there  is  involved  something  more  last- 
ing than  the  present  satisfaction. 
What  that  something  is  which  may 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

transform  good  gifts  into  evil  or  evil 
into  good  ones,  is  worth  discovering. 

There  is  a  well-known  Bible-story 
of  a  father  who  was  most  liberal  in 
gifts  to  his  two  sons.  The  experi- 
ences of  each  of  these  characters  give 
some  insight  into  the  value  and  into 
the  meaning  of  gratified  wishes. 

"A  certain  man  had  two  sons:  and 
the  younger  of  them  said  to  his  father, 
Father,  give  me  the  portion  of  goods 
that  falleth  to  me.  And  he  divided 
unto  them  his  living."  (Luke  xv.  ii, 
12.)  The  younger  son  prays  his 
father  to  grant  a  certain  favor.  Nay, 
he  does  not  simply  make  a  request, 
but  he  rather  demands  of  his  father 
that  to  him  be  given  what  he  had  a 
possible  right  to  claim.  What  he 
seeks  is  possession  of  property  which 
by  inheritance  would  be  left  to  him. 

Was  this  young  man  asking  prop- 
erly? From  the  narrative  we  gain  a 
hint  of  the  home  life  of  this  young  fel- 
low.   A    father    and    two    sons    are 

12 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

evidently  living  together  in  circum- 
stances of  comfort  and  affluence.  The 
father  is  a  respected  and  just  man, 
with  great  pride  in  and  love  for  his 
sons.  The  elder  son  is  apparently  a 
practical,  conservative  man  of  affairs 
relieving  his  ageing  father  from  the 
worry  and  management  of  his  numer- 
ous interests.  The  younger  son  has 
probably  just  come  of  age,  is  full  of 
the  impetuosity  of  youth,  loves  his 
father  in  an  unconscious  way,  but 
finds  his  brother  of  a  too  cold  and  un- 
companionable disposition,  so  that 
perhaps  a  little  estrangement  has 
grown  up  between  the  brothers. 

The  younger  feels  that  he  is  being 
ignored  in  the  management  of  the 
estate.  "  If  I  had  only  a  little  more 
say,  a  bigger  part  of  the  farm  would 
have  been  sowed  in  grain  the  past 
season  and  so  great  profit  been  made 
by  selling  at  the  high  prices  now  pre- 
vailing. But  no!  my  elder  brother 
was  too  conservative,  altogether  too 
13 


"  The  Prodigal's  Prayer  " 

slow.  If  he  had  only  listened  to  me 
he  would  have  found  out  that  all  the 
family  brains  had  not  come  to  the  first- 
born. I  will  just  show  my  brother 
and  father  that  they  had  not  half 
realized  what  a  clever  fellow  I  am.  I'll 
make  my  mark! " 

The  father  gratifies  this  personal, 
free,  willful  choice  of  his  son,  and 
"  divided  unto  them  his  living."  We 
shall  not  criticise  the  father.  Some 
would  criticise  the  son's  motive  in 
seeking  possession  of  the  wealth  and 
say  that  he  wanted  it  with  the  sole 
desire  of  escaping  from  the  order  and 
discipline  of  his  home  to  waste  his 
substance  in  riotous  living.  But  let 
us  not  blind  ourselves  in  beginning 
the  story  of  his  career  by  being  prej- 
udiced against  him. 

The  younger  son  was  like  many  an- 
other young  man,  who  has  demanded 
his  portion  because  he  has  felt  that  he 
must  start  out  and  make  his  own  way 
in  the  world.  Can  we  not  imagine 
14 


"  The  Prodigal's  Prayer  " 

how  in  the  first  few  days  of  his  new 
possession  the  younger  son  went  out 
especially  early  every  morning  to  see 
that  his  flock  of  sheep  and  little  drove 
of  cattle  were  rightly  cared  for.  And 
then  one  day  in  what  high  spirits  he 
came  in  saying,  "  Father,  I  had  a  great 
bit  of  news  to-day  and  have  taken  ad- 
vantage of  it.  I  heard,  from  one  who 
knows,  that  the  merchants  of  Tyre 
cannot  get  enough  wool  for  cloth  to 
fill  their  order  for  the  troops  of  Mace- 
donia. We'll  be  able  to  get  almost 
any  price  we  ask  for  our  spring  shear- 
ing. And  so  before  the  news  got  out, 
1  made  a  good  trade  with  our  neigh- 
bor Laban,  and  I've  got  sheep  for  all 
my  cattle! " 

"A  fine  bargain  you've  made," 
probably  sniffed  the  elder  brother, 
"for  I  believe  Laban's  flock  is  tainted 
with  mange." 

"Don't  worry,"  said  the  father, 
"this  may  turn  out  well  as  I  have 
known  such  to  do  before.  But,  my 
IS 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

boy,  I  am  afraid  you  were  a  little  fool- 
ish to  trade  off  all  your  cattle." 

Looking  after  his  big  flock  of  sheep 
at  length  became  rather  monotonous. 
And  why  wouldn't  his  father  and 
brother  let  him  have  the  liberty  and 
enjoyment  of  planting  his  fields  and 
managing  his  own  affairs  just  as  he 
pleased!  He  was  confident  he  could 
succeed  well  enough  by  himself. 

Well,  it  was  after  not  many  days, 
after  the  crops  had  been  put  in,  and 
the  work  was  a  little  slack  awaiting 
the  time  for  cultivation,  that  the 
younger  brother  having  busied  his 
mind  with  little  plans,  said,  "Father, 
there  isn't  much  to  see  to  here  now. 
You  know  I  am  anxious  about  my 
wool  venture,  and  I've  been  thinking 
that  if  I  only  went  to  Tyre  I  could 
watch  the  market  and  sell  to  better 
advantage  than  by  staying  away  off 
here."  So  he  collected  his  valuables, 
realized  some  money  on  whatever  he 
could,  and  having  gathered  all  to- 
i6 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

gather,  took  his  journey  into  a  far 
country. 

Nothing  develops  a  young  man  so 
much  as  getting  away  from  home. 
Take  from  him  the  thoughtful  care  of 
loving  parents  and  make  him  rely  upon 
himself.  Deprive  him  of  that  de- 
pendent yielding  to  the  continual  com- 
fort with  which  fond  hearts  would 
enfold  him.  Force  him  to  think  for 
himself,  provide  for  himself,  struggle 
in  competition  with  other  men  and 
you  make  that  home-leaving  son  a 
man.  Or,  perhaps  you  un-make  him, 
if  there  is  in  his  character  that  some- 
thing which  can  turn  good  gifts  into 
evil.  How  many  a  father's  blessing 
has  followed  his  son  to  the  great  city 
where  he  was  to  make  his  mark.  But 
there,  how  black  has  been  the  mark 
which  the  devil  has  helped  him  make 
— if  that  young  man  has  set  up  as  his 
ideal  the  serving  of  self,  which  is  the 
bond  of  partnership  with  Satan. 

In  the  parable  Christ  states  the  man- 
17 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

ner  of  the  younger  son's  living  in  brief 
and  simple  terms, — "  there  wasted  his 
substance  with  riotous  living."  We 
might  almost  imagine  that  the  com- 
passionate Jesus  in  the  telling  of  this 
story  shrank  from  branding  the  erring 
one  with  crime  worse  than  mere  im- 
provident living.  The  stinging  words 
imputed  to  the  elder  brother  bring  out 
the  enormity  of  the  sin  in  the  fullness 
of  its  shame, — "hath  devoured  thy 
living  with  harlots." 

Shall  we  consider  the  fall  of  the 
younger  son  to  have  come  about  as 
rapidly  as  the  transition  of  the  thought 
in  the  single  sentence  setting  it  forth  ? 
While  the  downward  path  ending  in 
destruction  is  as  sure  and  finally  a 
swift  one,  yet  the  beginning  is  an  al- 
most imperceptible  descent.  So  let  us 
imagine  this  was  the  case  with  this 
younger  son  in  the  city  of  Tyre. 

The  sale  of  the  wool  had  been 
profitably  managed.  He  had  the 
money.     He  might  now  return  home. 


"  The  Prodigal's  Prayer  '* 

But,  why  do  so  just  yet  ?  He  is  hav- 
ing a  good  time;  he  is  enjoying  in- 
dependence, freedom  from  the  con- 
trol and  restraint  of  home.  His  father 
and  brother  could  manage  affairs  with- 
out him  a  little  longer.  He  might  even 
have  the  chance  of  making  some 
money  by  staying  at  Tyre  and  taking 
advantage  of  the  offer  of  a  merchant 
to  take  him  into  a  venture  about  to  be 
made. 

"It  is  so  cool  and  delightful  down 
by  the  sea,  while  at  home  the  season 
is  undoubtedly  growing  hot  and  dis- 
tressing. There  are  such  pleasant  re- 
sorts at  the  seaside,  and  such  jolly 
companions  there  too.  I  may  not 
have  another  chance  soon  to  be  in 
Tyre,  so  I  might  as  well  enjoy  myself 
now!"  Thus  his  home-going  was 
put  off  and  put  off.  His  venture  with 
the  merchant  furnished  an  excuse  for 
this.  Indeed,  he  had  gotten  into  so 
many  things  that  he  sent  word  to  his 
father  to  dispose  of  what  property  of 
19 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

his  was  still  left,  and  to  send  on  the 
proceeds,  which  he  knew  he  could 
use  to  good  advantage  in  Tyre. 

What  a  tale  the  messenger  had  to 
tell  the  eager  listeners  in  that  little 
town  upon  his  return  from  delivering 
the  money  to  the  younger  son.  "  He 
was  arrayed  in  purple  and  fine  linen. 
He  is  living  like  a  prince.  Surely  he 
is  prospering!" 

Apparently  this  was  the  case  with 
the  younger  son.  When  first  he  came 
to  Tyre  he  had  lived  quietly,  unosten- 
tatiously, by  himself.  But  that  grew 
tiresome  and  lonely.  It  made  him 
homesick  to  go  about  unrecognized 
amid  the  crowds,  and  uncheered 
by  companionship  upon  his  return. 
Every  one  was  too  much  engrossed  in 
their  own  affairs  to  give  the  stranger  a 
thought.  So  he  began  to  yearn  for 
that  genial,  hearty  good-fellowship, 
which  he  had  with  friends  at  home 
and  which  was  a  part  of  his  nature. 
Did  he  find  a  kindly  refuge  in  the 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

synagogue  or  in  the  temples,  where  as 
a  stranger  he  was  passed  by  with  a 
mere  glance  ?  He  found  more  of  a 
welcome  with  his  business  acquaint- 
ances. And  it  was  through  one  of 
these  that  he  found  a  cordial  reception 
among  a  little  jovial  circle  of  kindred 
spirits.  The  presence  of  a  newcomer 
modified  their  talk,  somewhat  toned 
down  their  jests.  Yet  even  then  the 
younger  son  felt  slightly  embarrassed 
at  what  he  chided  himself  with  as 
boorishness,  ''since  of  course  he  had 
not  the  wider  knowledge  of  life  as 
these  city  fellows  had."  But  he  found 
his  opinions  were  given  a  certain 
deference,  his  jokes  boisterously  ap- 
preciated, his  ambitions  and  plans 
listened  to  with  some  seriousness. 

So  little  by  little  he  became  amalga- 
mated with  this  coterie  where  goes  on 
the  happy,  free,  careless  consideration 
of  one  another's  joys  and  sorrows, 
hopes  and  loves.  With  his  impetuous 
good-fellowship,  with  his  openly  frank 

21 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

nature,  with  his  ready  generosity,  the 
younger  son  soon  came  to  the  tlattering 
position  of  being  considered  indispen- 
sable to  that  little  group  when  they 
were  to  be  off  for  a  good  time.  And 
they  nicknamed  him  "The  Prodigal." 

Having  a  good  time  is  undoubtedly 
often  wrongly  judged  to  consist  in 
getting  well  filled  with  "  good  "  wine. 
All  trouble's  drowned,  all  pleasure's 
afloat  in  a  beliquored  brain.  But  re- 
turning consciousness  serves  as  a 
wrecking  company  and  grim  reality 
again  grins  at  you.  Water  was  per- 
haps not  such  a  safe  and  popular 
drink  in  the  days  of  the  Prodigal  as 
now.  Wine  was  probably  then  as  it 
is  now  used  mistakenly  as  a  sign  of 
social  prestige  or  affluence. 

Money  made  by  the  Prodigal's  first 
fortunate  venture  went  into  other  more 
questionable  ones  and  into  the  setting 
up  of  that  establishment  which  daz- 
zled the  eyes  of  the  country  messenger. 
This  place  became  the  rendezvous  of 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

the  Prodigal's  first  genial  companions 
and  of  others  whom  he  later  attracted 
himself.  These  were  not  such  friends 
as  he  should  have  had.  They  were 
not  the  true,  lifelong  friends  of  his 
old  home.  They  were  the  transient, 
flattering  self-seekers  of  a  parasitic 
class,  ready  to  live  where  a  living 
could  be  more  easily  grasped. 

When  reckless  extravagance  and 
successful  business  ventures  began  to 
cast  a  warning  shadow  across  the 
Prodigal's  table  and  upon  his  face; 
when  curtailed  hospitality  led  the 
former  cronies  to  declare  "the  latest 
cook  is  vile,"  "the  velvet  carpets  are 
badly  worn,"  "things  are  becoming 
horribly  in  need  of  refurnishing,"  and 
"  Circe  is  not  dressing  as  she  used  to 
and  her  jewels  are  disappearing;" 
when  a  little  loan  was  less  leniently 
forgotten  by  the  Prodigal  and  the 
golden  glint  disappeared  from  among 
his  coins;  then  it  was  that  former 
friendly  grasps  loosened.  He  was  not 
23 


"  The  Prodigal's  Prayer  " 

as  indispensable  as  he  used  to  be  at 
certain  gatherings.  Why,  it  was  even 
said  that  Perseus  had  passed  him  with- 
out deigning  to  make  him  a  saluta- 
tion. 

Thus  did  the  Prodigal  undoubtedly 
realize  what  certain  kinds  of  friend- 
ship really  are.  He  would  have  agreed 
with  an  early  Roman  philosopher  who 
under  similar  experiences  of  life  as 
lived  amid  the  ancient  civilization 
wrote  sharply  of  such  friendship  as 
he  had  seen.  Said  he, — "For  univer- 
sally, be  not  deceived,  every  animal  is 
attached  to  nothing  so  much  as  to  its 
own  interests.  Whatever  then  ap- 
pears to  be  an  impediment  to  this 
interest,  whether  this  be  a  brother,  or 
a  child,  or  beloved,  or  lover,  it  hates, 
spurns,  curses;  for  it  is  its  nature  to 
love  nothing  so  much  as  its  own  in- 
terests; this  is  father  and  brother,  and 
kinsman,  and  God. — But  you  may 
say,  Such  a  one  treated  me  with  re- 
gard so  long;  and  did  he  not  love  me  ? 
24 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

How  do  you  know,  slave,  if  he  did 
not  regard  you  in  the  same  way  he 
wipes  his  shoes  with  a  sponge,  or  as 
he  takes  care  of  his  beast  ?  How  do 
you  know,  when  you  have  ceased  to 
be  useful  as  a  vessel,  he  will  not  throw 
you  away  like  a  broken  platter  ? " 
(Epictetus'  Discourses.) 

The  Prodigal  was  broken  in  fortune, 
in  friendship,  probably  in  health.  A 
famine  was  on  in  the  land.  **  He  began 
to  be  in  want."  Yes  literally  "he  be- 
gan to  be  behind,"  and  unpaid  bills 
were  harder  and  harder  to  settle. 
Business  was  depressed  and  failure 
ahead.  The  future  faced  him  like  a 
fiendish  foe.  He  had  wasted  his  sub- 
stance with  riotous  living. 

The  Prodigal  had  drunk  the  cup  of 
pleasure  to  the  dregs.  What  was  it 
all  to  him  now?  Nothing!  and  less 
than  nothing,  "Vanity  of  vanities, 
vanity  of  vanities;  all  is  vanity." 
(Eccl.  i.  2.)  The  dream  at  an 
end.  Everything  vanished.  Repu- 
25 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

tation  gone!  Honor  gone!!  Virtue 
gone!!!  Nothing  left  but  his  worth- 
less self.  And  why  let  it  longer  mock 
him  ?  Why  not  with  a  few  drops  of 
poison  and  one  short,  sharp  spasm 
shake  off  all  worldly  woe,  as  had 
Circe  done  when  he  cast  her  off.  Or, 
why  not  with  the  few  coins  left,  once 
more  with  wine  woo  forgetfulness, 
and  before  waking  to  want,  with  his 
dagger,  like  the  false  and  ill-fated 
friend  Perseus,  let  wine  and  life  es- 
cape together  ? 

Ah  no!  his  hand  is  stayed.  Not  by 
an  angel  as  with  Abraham's  descend- 
ing, daggered  hand.  But  the  feeble 
voice  of  a  reviving  conscience  fright- 
ens him  from  the  deed.  Fear  lays 
hold  upon  him;  fear  of  an  angry  and 
outraged  God.  Dare  he  face  that  God 
with  his  useless,  polluted,  sinful  rec- 
ord? No!  For  the  Proverbs  say, 
"The  way  of  the  wicked  is  an  abom- 
ination unto  the  Lord."  (xv.  9.) 
So  he  must  put  off  that  dread  ordeal 
26 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

of  God's  condemnation.  Nor  would 
he  let  his  former  companions  have  the 
chance  to  jest  at  his  untimely  end.  He 
would  not  add  to  his  record  this  final 
shame  and  cause  his  father  deeper 
sorrow. 

Alas!  his  poor  father!  The  Prodigal 
could  not  bear  to  face  him  after  the 
heartless  conduct  which  had  made 
him  unworthy  a  father's  love.  He 
would  not  turn  toward  home  now. 
He  would  go  elsewhere  that  he  might 
be  blotted  out  of  the  father's  existence 
and  memory.  Yet  the  Prodigal  must 
live,  and  live  he  could  not  in  the  city. 
He  has  no  skill  which  would  be  in 
demand  even  if  labor  were  not  then  a 
drug  on  the  market.  So  using  his  last 
coin,  he  turns  to  his  old  occupation 
and  gets  away  to  join  himself  to  a 
farmer. 

His  life  in  Tyre  had  sadly  changed 

the   Prodigal.     He   is   not  fit  for  the 

work  he  used  to  do  on  his  father's 

farm.     Half-sick,  weak,  with  bloated 

27 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

face  and  repulsive  appearance,  he 
found  it  hard  to  persuade  the  farmer 
to  give  him  even  such  a  menial  and 
degraded  position  as  that  of  swine- 
herd. 

Day  by  day  he  sat  in  the  field 
watching  the  swine.  Day  after  day 
he  heard  no  voice  but  that  of  his  con- 
science no  longer  stifled  by  the  laugh- 
ing voices  of  companions  or  by  seduc- 
tive sound  of  flattery.  Night  after 
night  did  visions  of  his  gay  life  haunt 
him.  Night  and  again  would  he  take 
his  meagre  pay  to  the  public  house. 
For  it  was  hard  to  quench  that  old 
thirst  and  it  was  easy  to  sink  into  a 
stupefaction  blotting  out  all  memory 
and  all  conscience. 

The  Prodigal  was  fast  falling  lower 
than  the  hogs  he  tended,  "and  he 
would  fain  have  filled  his  belly  with 
the  husks  that  the  swine  did  eat,  and 
no  man  gave  unto  him."  (Luke  xv. 
1 6.)  Surely  he  was  foully  treated. 
No  man  gave  unto  him!  and  why 
28 


"The  ProdigaPs  Prayer" 

should  they  give  to  him,  a  rag- 
ged, bloated,  despondent  swineherd  ? 
Would  he  not  but  change  the  helping 
gift  for  a  damning  drink  ?  Might  he 
not  then  in  blinded  frenzy  like  a  sense- 
less boar  turn  and  rend  the  hand  which 
had  cast  the  pearls  of  charity  before 
him  ? 

"No  man  gave  unto  him,"  yet  that 
evident  unkindness  was  a  blessing  to 
him.  For  the  extreme  pressure  of 
want  finally  showed  the  Prodigal  the 
contrast  between  the  country  and  cir- 
cumstances to  which  his  sin  had 
brought  him  and  that  plenty  and 
peace  which  he  had  known  at  home. 
He  sees  that  he  is  in  want  and  suffer- 
ing not  through  providential  circum- 
stances, but  through  his  own  mis- 
doing. He  realizes  that  the  motive  of 
his  whole  life  has  been  unconsciously 
the  service  of  self.  He  had  enthroned 
self  in  the  place  of  God  and  to  his 
self-made  God  given  homage  and 
obedience.  He  laments  the  self-love 
29 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

which  took  him  away  from  his  father's 
love.  So  the  change  comes  from 
a  mere  loving  for  food  and  drink  to  a 
longing  for  the  father's  love,  long  lost. 
He  is  now  willing  to  go  back  as  a 
humble  penitent.  He  is  now  anxious 
to  be  near  his  father,  if  only  as  a  hired 
servant.  He  wants  to  have  his  father's 
kindly  guiding  hand  direct  his  own 
youngbut  weakened  will.  Oh!  simply 
to  be  able  to  serve  his  father! 

The  Prodigal's  moral  nature  has 
awakened,  his  impulses  are  trans- 
formed, his  life  is  changed.  He  has 
come  to  himself.  He  forsakes  his 
old  self  and  selfishness.  He  seeks  a 
simple,  serviceable  life.  He  struggles 
back  over  the  road  which  he  thought 
led  to  fortune,  but  which  he  now 
agonizingly  hopes  may  still  lead  to  a 
loving  and  merciful  father. 

"  When  he  was  yet  a  great  way  off, 
his  father  saw  him,  and  had  compas- 
sion, and  ran,  and  fell  on  his  neck 
and  kissed  him."  (Luke  xv.  20.)  This 
30 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

reception  was  more  than  the  Prodigal 
expected.  It  renders  impossible  his 
humble  request  to  be  received  as  a 
servant.  The  father's  love  has  antici- 
pated the  confession  of  sin  and  wrong, 
which  was  flowing  from  the  hum- 
bled, grateful,  and  thoroughly  peni- 
tent heart.  This  was  more  strength- 
ening, more  welcome  to  the  Prodigal's 
changed  heart  than  were  the  fatted 
calf  and  feast  to  his  weakened  consti- 
tution. 

One  thing  was  lacking  to  the  com- 
plete joy  of  the  Prodigal's  return.  All 
the  elder  brother's  unkindness  was 
not  forgotten  by  the  younger  brother, 
who  longed  for  his  forgiveness  and 
forgetting  sympathy  also.  But  the 
elder  brother  was  one  of  those  unfor- 
tunate natures  which  can  never  forget 
and  which  seldom  forgive.  ''What 
means  this  sound  of  gayety  which 
strikes  his  ears  as  he  approaches  the 
house!"  Impassive,  proud,  haughty 
and  portly,  the  elder  brother  calls  to  a 
31 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

servant  and  demands  the  meaning  of 
what  he  hears.  The  servant  replies, 
"Thy  brother  is  come  and  thy  father 
hath  killed  the  fatted  calf  because  he 
hath  received  him  safe  and  sound." 
(Luke  XV.  27.)  "And  he  was  angry 
and  would  not  go  in." 

Indeed  he  was  angry.  "  When  had 
he  been  given  half  such  a  feast  and 
celebration  as  was  prepared  for  this 
wanton  spendthrift  ?  Had  not  that 
one  now  returned  simply  to  live  on 
the  savings  of  him  who  had  worked 
hard  day  by  day  instead  of  seeing  the 
world  and  living  in  idleness!  No! 
He  would  not  go  in." 

"  Therefore  came  the  father  and  en- 
treated the  elder  son."  But  the  fa- 
ther's loving  appeal  for  a  brother's 
sympathy  toward  him  who  had  sinned 
and  suffered  for  his  sin,  brings  forth 
this  answer, — "Lo,  these  many  years 
do  I  serve  thee,  neither  transgressed 
I  at  any  time  thy  commandments: 
and  yet  thou  never  gavest  me  a  kid 
32 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

that  I  might  make  merry  with  my 
friends." 

The  father  does  not  deny  this  and 
his  reply, — "Son,  thou  art  ever  with 
me,  and  all  that  I  have  is  thine,"  shows 
that  the  elder  brother  had  not  yet  dis- 
possessed the  father  of  the  portion 
falling  to  him,  and  that  indeed  he  was 
a  dutiful  son;  his  life  had  been  con- 
stant, conscientious  and  moral.  But 
there  was  a  lack  of  heart  and  absence 
of  affection.  His  blamelessness  was 
external  and  not  of  the  heart.  The 
elder  brother  by  his  words  even 
showed  the  narrowed  selfishness. 

He  might  have  been  given  a  kid  for 
a  feast  with  his  friends  as  an  occasional 
reward  for  his  faithful  industry.  No 
kid  for  me!  But  a  fatted  calf  for  him 
who  gained  the  name  of  **  Prodigal" 
in  Tyre!  Not  even  the  least  forme 
who  had  been  so  unlike  this  fellow! 
Nothing  for  me  the  "Unprodigal "! 
But  the  elder  by  the  words  hereby 
used  to  justify  his  blame  of  the  fallen 
33 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

brother,  at  the  same  time  reveals  his 
own  nature.  His  nature  was  as  coldly 
selfish  as  that  younger  brother's  had 
been  impetuously  selfish.  It  was  as 
the  servile  disposition  of  a  hired  serv- 
ant, counting  only  the  gain,  and  was 
not  the  spirit  of  a  devoted  son  to  a 
loving  and  deserving  father.  It  was 
that  narrow-minded  temperament 
which  can  see  actions  in  only  one 
light;  and  that  light  is  the  dimmed 
one  of  their  own  narrow  experience, 
and  of  their  own  bigoted,  low-grade, 
but  highly  intensive  imagination. 

The  elder  brother  was  undoubtedly 
intended  by  Christ  to  represent  that 
class  which  he  was  continually  de- 
nouncing in  such  scathing  words  as 
they  most  truly  deserved.  "Woe 
unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypo- 
crites! for  ye  are  like  unto  whited 
sepulchres,  which  indeed  appear  beau- 
tiful outward,  but  are  within  full  of 
dead  men's  bones,  and  of  all  unclean- 
ness."  (Matt,  xxiii.  27.)  "Woe  unto 
34 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites! 
for  ye  pay  tithes  of  mint  and  anise  and 
cummin,  and  have  omitted  the  weight- 
ier matters  of  law,  judgment,  mercy, 
and  faith;  these  ought  ye  to  have 
done,  and  not  to  leave  the  other  un- 
done." (Matt,  xxiii.  2^.)  **Thou 
hypocrite,  first  cast  the  beam  out  of 
thine  own  eye."  (Matt.  vii.  5.)  "It 
was  meet  that  we  should  make  merry 
and  be  glad;  for  this  thy  brother  was 
dead  and  is  alive  again;  and  was  lost 
and  is  found  again." 

The  intenseness  of  interest  in  this 
story  of  the  Prodigal  centres  in  the  res- 
toration. "There  is  joy  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  angels  of  God  over  one 
sinner  that  repenteth."  (Luke  xv.  10.) 
A  son  regained!  A  sinner  saved!  A 
brother  resurrected!  Should  not  the 
feelings  of  the  elder  brother  as  well  as 
of  the  father  have  been  like  the  su- 
preme joyousness  of  Mary  and  Martha 
when  Christ  called  forth  Lazarus  from 
the  reeking  tomb  ? 
35 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

But,  do  you  not  suspect  that  the 
elder  brother's  heart  was  dead,  and 
could  not  feel  for  another?  The 
only  true,  full  throbbing  heart  in  the 
story  is  that  of  the  father.  One  heart 
dead  in  the  coldest  of  respectable  sel- 
fishness! One  heart  almost  stopped 
through  the  selfish  clogging  with 
pleasures!  One  heart  beating  on 
through  surrender  of  property,  blow 
to  family  honor,  loss  of  loved  one! 
Why  did  the  father's  heart  still  thus 
beat  and  warm  into  renewed  life  one 
who  was  dead  in  trespasses  and  sin  ? 
Because  subserviency  of  selfish  thought 
for  his  own  good  had  not  quite  killed 
the  life  of  his  heart!  The  father 
thought  first  of  his  sons,  then  of  him- 
self. The  sons  thought  first  of  them- 
selves, and  then  of  their  father,  if  they 
thought  at  all.  They  would  take  all 
the  good  gifts  he  could  give  unto  them, 
and  give  nothing  in  return. 

Thus  in  the  life  of  the  Prodigal  son 
is  seen  the  effect  of  gifts,  good  in 
36 


"  The  Prodigal's  Prayer  " 

themselves  and  to  him  seemingly  so. 
These  he  asked  and  obtained.  A  lov- 
ing father  bestowed  them.  But  the 
intended  benefit,  the  much  desired 
things  brought  degradation,  misery, 
and  a  narrow  escape  from  death, 
earthly  and  eternal. 

Think  you  not  that  the  Prodigal  did 
not  with  his  declining  fortune  utter 
prayers  for  help  and  escape  ?  Yet  no 
saving  success  but  dire  disaster  turned 
up  to  his  seeking.  Still  the  evil  was 
turned  into  good,  for  he  came  to  him- 
self, realized  his  selfishness,  and  went 
to  knock  as  a  suppliant  at  his  father's 
door.  "  Father  I  am  no  more  worthy 
to  be  called  thy  son;  make  me  as  one 
of  thy  hired  servants."  That  sub- 
missive, humble  and  faltering  prayer 
was  more  than  answered. 

It  was  Christ  in  the  agony  of  Geth- 
semane  prayed, — "O  My  Father,  if 
it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from 
Me:  nevertheless  not  as  I  will,  but  as 
Thou  wilt."  (Matt.  xxvi.  39.)  We, 
37 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer** 

too,  pray, — "  O  God,  give  me  the  por- 
tion of  goods  that  should  fall  to  mel 
As  I  will,  Thou  shalt  do!!"  Our 
prayers  are  answered.  But  the  prom- 
ise is  often  fortunately  fulfilled  so  dif- 
erently  from  what  we  sought.  We 
get  not  the  goods  we  coveted;  we  get 
nothing;  or,  we  get  even  worse  than 
nothing.  Yet  in  this  contrary  fulfill- 
ment of  our  petition  we  are  sometimes 
by  the  very  disappointment  given  a 
divine  gift,  which  is  the  discernment 
of  what  it  would  be  wiser  for  us  to 
seek. 

What  can  we  ask  and  receive? 
"  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God; 
and  renew  a  right  spirit  within  me." 
(Psalm  li.  10.)  What  can  we  seek 
and  find?  "Seek  ye  first  the  king- 
dom of  God  and  His  righteousness; 
and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto 
you."  (Matt.  vi.  33.)  What  shall  be 
opened  to  our  knocking?  "Behold, 
I  have  set  before  thee  an  open  door, 
and  no  man  can  shut  it:  for  thou  hast 
38 


"The  Prodigal's  Prayer" 

a  little  strength,  and  hast  kept  My 
word,  and  hast  not  denied  My  name." 
(Rev.  iii.  8.)  "I  am  the  way,  the 
truth  and  the  life:  no  man  cometh 
unto  the  Father,  but  by  Me."  (John 
xiv.  6.) 

Truly,  no  man  cometh  unto  the  Fa- 
ther, nor  cometh  unto  a  right  under- 
standing of  gifts,  except  he  learn  of 
Christ.  Better  leave  the  gold  hidden 
in  the  earth  than  to  hide  it  as  a  miser's 
hoard.  "For  what  shall  it  profit  a 
man,  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world, 
and  lose  his  own  soul  ? "  (Mark  viii. 
^6.)  Ah,  it  is  the  spiritual  which  is 
of  far  more  value  than  the  material. 
Christ  declares  it.  He,  who  sought 
less  in  this  world  than  the  foxes  with 
their  holes  and  the  birds  with  their 
nests,  reveals  the  worth  of  things  to 
lie  not  in  themselves  but  in  the  spirit 
with  which  they  are  given  or  received. 

An  unselfish,  loving,  consecrated 
purpose  is  the  talisman  which  will 
bring  God's  best  gifts  unto  us.  A 
39 


"  The  Prodigal's  Prayer  " 

thoughtful,  loving,  sympathetic  spirit 
is  the  alchemist's  stone  which  will 
change  our  trifling  gifts  into  an  ines- 
timable treasure  in  the  hand  and  in 
the  heart  of  the  receiver.  Let  us  seek 
for  ourselves,  and  let  us  endeavor  to 
be  the  means  of  extending  to  others 
that  greatest  of  blessings  which  is  the 
gift  of  God,  eternal  life  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

Benediction :  '*  Now,  unto  Him  that 
is  able  to  keep  you  from  falling,  and 
present  you  faultless  before  the  pres- 
ence of  His  glory,  with  an  exceeding 
joy,  to  the  only  wise  God,  our  Saviour, 
be  glory  and  majesty,  dominion  and 
power,  now  and  forever.    Amen." 


40 


Fishers  of  Men 


The  text  is  in  the  fourth  chapter  of  the  gospel 
according  to  St.  Matthew,  the  nineteenth  verse : 
— "  And  He  saith  unto  them,  Follow  Me,  and  I 
will  make  you  fishers  of  men." 

"  Fishers  of  men  "  is  now  a  familiar 
phrase,  but  to  those  Gahlean  fisher- 
men, Simon  and  Peter,  it  must  have 
sounded  strange.  It  was  a  call  to  a 
new  mode  of  living.  In  the  early 
morning  as  they  were  casting  a  net 
into  the  sea,  these  words  were  wafted 
across  to  them: — ''Follow  Me,  and  I 
will  make  you  fishers  of  men."  We 
can  imagine  how  Simon  and  Andrew, 
with  half-lowered  net,  stopped  in  sur- 
prise to  see  whence  came  such  words. 
It  seems  likely  from  the  setting  of  the 
incident,  and  from  the  narratives  in 
41 


Fishers  of  Men 

Mark  and  Luke  (i.  i8;  v.  4-10),  that 
the  night  was  a  bad  one  for  fishing. 
The  two  brothers  were  perhaps  moan- 
ing their  luck  as  they  made  this  one 
last  cast,  which  they  hoped  would 
bring  them  something  to  make  their 
long  night's  toil  not  wholly  unprofita- 
ble. 

At  this  moment,  the  words  of  the 
text  smote  upon  the  ears  of  these 
Galilean  fishermen.  A  strange  con- 
trast was  brought  to  their  minds;  they 
were  working  at  their  daily  occupa- 
tion and  failure  crowned  their  efforts. 
But  this  strange  suggestion,  "Fishers 
of  men,"  what  could  it  mean,  and  in 
that  unusual  vocation  what  success 
would  crown  their  endeavors  ? 

The  source  of  these  unexpected 
words,  Simon  and  Peter  found  to  be 
the  lips  of  one  who  was  as  marvellous 
as  His  utterances;  it  was  Jesus  of 
Nazareth.  Not  unknown  to  them  was 
this  strange  teacher,  for  He  had  pub- 
licly taught  in  Galilee  and  repeated  the 
42 


Fishers  of  Men 

warning  cry  of  John  the  Baptist,— 
**  Repent  for  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
is  at  hand."  At  Nazareth  also  He  had 
in  the  synagogue  declared  the  prophecy 
of  Isaiah  fulfilled  in  Himself,  the  Mes- 
siah who  was  heralded  by  John  in  the 
wilderness. 

What  could  Jesus  mean  ?  "  Follow 
Me,"  they  could  not  understand,  for  it 
was  the  custom  of  the  rabbis  to  gather 
a  circle  of  disciples  about  themselves 
as  masters.  So  this  was  a  call  to  be- 
come permanent  disciples  of  Jesus  as 
a  teacher.  This  they  were  ready  to 
do.  But  in  calling  these  first  apostles 
into  active  fellowship  with  Him,  Jesus 
does  it  at  such  a  time  and  with  such 
words  that  it  serves  at  the  same  mo- 
ment as  an  object  lesson  to  them. 

Simon  and  Andrew  were  fishermen. 
Yet  as  "fishers  of  men"  instead  of 
"catchers  of  fish"  they  would  find 
many  experiences  similar  to  those  in 
their  former  occupation.  They  had  just 
been  disappointed  in  their  labor  to 
43 


Fishers  of  Men 

take  the  •  fish  from  the  deep.  They 
would  often  be  disappointed  in  their 
attempt  to  lead  erring  souls  from 
bondage  of  sin  to  a  saving  knowledge 
of  Jesus  Christ.  They  had  often  con- 
tended with  the  fury  of  the  storms, 
but  the  buffetings  of  nature  would 
soon  seem  to  them  a  time  of  joy  as 
they  for  Jesus'  sake  withstood  the  hos- 
tility of  the  priestly  class,  the  calumny 
of  the  learned  scribes,  and  the  fierce 
onslaught  of  the  surging  masses  of  the 
common  rabble.  Could  they  weather 
the  storms  ahead  of  them  as  well  as 
they  had  those  of  the  Lake  of  Galilee  ? 

Yes ;  for  they  would  use  that  tire- 
less persistence  which  is  characteristic 
of  fishermen;  they  would  the  long 
night  through,  struggle  in  prayer 
against  temptation  and  for  the  souls 
of  sinners,  as  they  had  tugged  at  the 
sails  or  strained  at  the  nets. 

There  would  also  be  a  contrast  be- 
tween their  new  and  their  old  lives. 
Not  simply  that  they  would  be  labor- 
44 


Fishers  of  Men 

ing  for  men  instead  of  for  fish,  but 
that  whereas  they  had  caught  fish  for 
the  death  and  destruction  of  the  fish, 
now  they  would  catch  men  for  life 
and  salvation.  Furthermore,  the  great- 
est change  would  be  seen  in  their  own 
lives.  Commonplace,  obscure  and  un- 
known Galilean  fishermen  had  they 
been.  Extraordinary,  famous  men 
were  they  to  be;  the  world-famed 
apostles  of  Jesus  Christ;  founders  of 
the  early  church  which  was  to  grow 
into  a  world-wide  power;  and  Simon 
surnamed  Peter  was  to  be  the  spokes- 
man and  leader  of  that  world-revolu- 
tionizing band  of  disciples  of  Christ  to 
die  a  martyr's  death,  and  to  have  a 
mighty  institution  built  upon  his 
name. 

What  wrought  such  a  change  in  the 
lives  of  those  two  unknown  and  un- 
developed fishermen  ? — It  was  the  call 
"Follow  Me"  which  led  them  to 
learn  of  Christ,  the  way  of  life,  not 
selfishly  for  themselves  but  unselfishly 
45 


Fishers  of  Men 

for  whomsoever  was  astray  or  adrift. 
— It  was  the  changed  energy  of  their 
lives  and  the  transformed  natural  in- 
stincts whereby  Christ  indeed  fulfilled 
in  them  the  promise,  "I  will  make 
you  fishers  of  men." 

Fishing  was  the  business  of  Simon 
and  Andrew.  They  may  have  fol- 
lowed this  occupation  either  from 
choice  or  from  the  necessity  and  cir- 
cumstances of  their  surroundings. 
However  that  may  be,  there  seems  to 
be  a  natural  instinct  in  man  to  fish. 
Where  is  the  man  who  has  not  at  one 
end  of  a  line  been  broiled  in  the  sun 
or  soaked  in  the  rain  ?  Where  is  the 
boy  who  has  not  with  twine  and  bent 
pin  tried  to  lure  a  finny  prize  from — 
even  the  nearest  mud-puddle?  Ah! 
that  love  of  catching  something;  that 
inborn  instinct  of  pursuit  and  conquest 
which  fires  the  breast  of  every  man 
and  woman. 

Consider  what  a  fortunate  thing  it  is 
that  we  possess  this  quality.  With- 
46 


Fishers  of  Men 

out  it  man  would  have  remained  the 
barbarian,  the  mere  brute  man,  con- 
tent to  live  solely  an  existence  of  eat- 
ing and  drinking  and  sleeping.  With 
it  he  has  been  restless  in  the  desire  to 
catch  larger  game,  hence  primitive 
man  contrived  his  spears  and  axes  of 
stone,  and  then  in  time  of  bronze  and 
of  iron  until  his  needs  were  met.  For 
his  convenience  and  comfort  he  no 
longer  left  the  sun  sole  god  of  fire  but 
robbed  him  of  his  supremacy  by  rub- 
bing two  sticks  together.  Wrapping 
himself  in  the  skins  of  his  slaughtered 
prey,  he  defied  the  hostile  blasts  of 
winter.  And  thus  has  man  ever  been 
conquering  nature,  beasts,  his  own 
fellows  and  in  turn  himself,  until 
now,  in  our  days  we  see  civilization 
ripening  into  the  fruitage  foreshad- 
owed when  God  planted  a  divine 
spark  within  man.  But  the  end  is  not 
yet.  Greater  victories  must  still  be 
won  by  man.  Yes,  even  in  our  ordi- 
nary daily  life  we  must  lay  hold  on 
47 


Fishers  of  Men 

this  quality  and  exercise  it  to  keep 
from  being  overcome  by  the  dangers 
or  evils  which  would  else  conquer  us. 

Simon  and  Andrew  the  fishermen 
heeded  Christ's  words,  followed  Him, 
became  His  disciples.  We  must  of 
course  grant  that  all  men  are  not  called 
to  follow  Christ  in  the  way  these  two 
were.  They  were  called  into  the  im- 
mediate and  intimate  circle  of  Christ's 
personal  companionship  and  work,  as 
we  might  almost  to-day  say  a  minister 
of  the  gospel  is  called.  Still  as  we  all 
should  be  disciples  of  Christ  in  greater 
or  less  degree  of  intimate  service,  we 
can  each  profit  by  the  suggestive  in- 
cidents of  the  text. 

The  call,  "  Follow  Me,"  as  we  have 
seen,  meant  to  take  Jesus  as  a  teacher. 
Each  of  us  here  realizes  the  need  and 
the  importance  of  conforming  our 
lives  to  the  wise  and  beneficial  stand- 
ard established  by  Christ.  Our  hap- 
piness, usefulness  and  success  in  life 
will  depend  upon  the  degree  in  which 
48 


Fishers  of  Men 

we  cultivate  and  acquire  the  virtues  of 
meekness,  righteousness,  mercy,  pu- 
rity, brotherly  love,  undoubtedly  we 
all  have  these  at  times,  but  not  all  the 
time.  Hence  we  must  have  persever- 
ance to  make  these  important  qualities 
permanent.  For  Christ  said, — "If  ye 
continue  in  My  word,  then  are  ye  My 
disciples  indeed;  and  ye  shall  know 
the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall  make  you 
free."    (John  viii.  3ib-32.) 

In  the  fisherman's  life  is  there  a 
good  illustration  of  this  quality  of 
continuing,  persevering,  and  master- 
ing difficulties.  It  was  eminently  seen 
in  the  life  of  the  first  called  fishing 
apostle,  Simon  Peter,  and  one  such  in- 
cident occurs  after  the  call  described. 
For  it  seems  according  to  the  accounts 
of  the  Synoptists  compared,  that  after 
calling  Simon  and  Andrew  and  then 
the  two  sons  of  Zebedee,  a  throng  of 
people  were  already  crowding  about 
Christ,  eager  to  hear  His  words  of 
power.    To  be  heard  the  better  by  the 

49 


Fishers  of  Men 

multitude,  Christ  enters  the  boat  of 
Peter  and  is  pushed  off  from  shore. 
When  He  had  finished  speaking  He 
said  to  Simon,  "  Launch  out  into  the 
deep,  and  let  down  your  nets  for  a 
draught."  "And  Simon  answering 
said,  Master,  we  have  toiled  all  the 
night,  and  have  taken  nothing;  never- 
theless at  Thy  word  I  will  let  down 
the  nets."  Then  was  taken  that  mi- 
raculous draught  of  fishes  which 
seems  a  reward  to  the  patiently  perse- 
vering Peter  after  his  long  night  of 
fruitless  toil,  and  which  also  seems  to 
have  been  a  foreshadowing  of  the  mi- 
raculous in-gathering  of  three  thou- 
sand souls  at  the  day  of  Pentecost  by 
the  down-pouring  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
and  under  the  influence  of  the  earnest 
and  eloquent  words  of  this  erstwhile 
fisherman. 

Peter  had  also  launched  out  into  the 
deep  when  to  his  trained  eye  and  hu- 
man    knowledge    there    seemed    no 
promise  of  success.     Yet  with  faith  in 
50 


Fishers  of  Men 

his  Master  he  bent  to  the  task  of  meet- 
ing and  taking  the  as  yet  unseen  fish. 
Cannot  this  thought  help  us,  that  the 
unseen,  unknown,  the  to  us  uncertain 
future,  are  all  known  to  our  Lord  and 
Master  ?  All  that  He  requires  of  us  is, 
that  to  become  victors  over  the  unseen 
and  perhaps  the  fear  and  dread  of  it, 
we  trust  His  all-wise  providence,  for 
we  shall  "through  faith  inherit  the 
promises."    (Heb.  iv.  12.) 

Again  upon  going  after  the  unseen 
Peter  was  taxed  to  the  utmost  of  his 
strength  and  skill  to  take  in  that  mul- 
titude of  fish.  Likewise  are  our  full- 
est efforts  demanded  in  life.  Our 
conquest  over  ourselves,  sin,  and  evil 
is  frequently  a  painful  struggle,  but  it 
is  childish  to  complain  for  a  man's 
glory  is  to  endure  and  from  weakness 
to  become  strong  and  wax  valiant  in 
the  fight.  Then  shall  we  be  crowned 
with  the  glory  of  victory  and  success 
and  realize  as  a  certain  writer  has 
said,  that:  "Pains  are  blows  of  the 
51 


Fishers  of  Men 

hammer  knocking  off  the  rough  out- 
side of  the  geode  to  reaUze  the  beau- 
teous crystals  within.  Troubles  are 
blows  lifted  upon  the  dungeon  door 
for  giving  the  prisoner  release.  Suf- 
ferings are  stamp-mills  crushing  the 
quartz  that  the  gold  may  be  free." 
(N.  D.  Hillis-Foret  Immort.) 

Realizing  the  benefits  which  result 
from  this  determination  of  character, 
and  endurance  of  afflictions,  we  can 
appreciate  the  significant  words  of  an- 
other writer  who  says, — "  How  much 
is  missed  in  life  through  feebleness  of 
resolve,  a  lack  of  decision!  How 
many  are  the  invertebrate  souls,  lack- 
ing in  will  and  void  in  purpose,  who, 
instead  of  piercing  waves  and  con- 
quering the  flow  of  adverse  tides,  like 
the  medusa,  can  only  drift,  all  limp 
and  languid,  in  the  current  of  circum- 
stance! Such  men  do  not  make  apos- 
tles; they  are  but  ciphers  of  flesh  and 
blood,  of  no  value  by  themselves,  and 
only  of  any  worth  as  they  are  attached 
52 


Fishers  of  Men 

to  the  unit  of  some  stronger  will.  A 
poor  broken  thing  is  a  life  spent  in 
the  subjunctive  mood,  among  the 
"mights"  and  ''shoulds,"  where"! 
will  "  waits  upon  "I  would  " !  That  is 
the  truest,  worthiest  hfe  that  is  divided 
between  the  indicative  and  the  imper- 
ative. As  in  shaking  pebbles  the 
smaller  ones  drop  to  the  bottom,  their 
place  determined  by  their  size,  so  in 
the  shaking  together  of  human  lives, 
in  the  rub  and  jostle  of  the  world,  the 
strong  wills  invariably  come  to  the 
top."     (Burton-Gosp.  Luke,  167.) 

Simon  the  obscure  Galilean  fisher- 
man became  the  chief  of  the  apostles. 
He  followed  Christ;  he  learned  of 
Christ;  he  toiled  by  the  side  of  Christ; 
he  subdued  his  own  nature  through 
Christ;  he  caught  men  from  death 
unto  life  in  Christ;  he  dwells  forever 
in  glory  with  Christ. 

May  not  we  have  this  in  part  said  of 
us?  God  grant  it!  Yet  it  depends 
not  upon  God  but  upon  ourselves.  It 
53 


Fishers  of  Men 

depends  upon  how  well  we  learn  our 
lesson  from  the  life  of  Simon  Peter, 
the  catcher  of  fish  and  the  fisher  of 
men.  His  was  a  life  given  to  these 
lines  of  work.  Ours  is  a  life  needing 
the  frequent  exercise  of  those  qualities 
seen  in  Peter's. 

At  the  seashore  I  have  seen  a  fish- 
erman stand  in  his  boat  while  it  was 
drifting  or  being  rowed  by  another, 
and  casting  his  line  far  into  the  rocky 
shore  pull  it  quickly  back,  trolling 
through  the  water.  Then  out  would 
shoot  his  line  again,  and  back  be 
drawn.  Thus  have  I  seen  the  fisher- 
man skirting  the  shore,  come  into 
sight  and  slowly  pass  into  the  dim 
distance,  ever  casting  and  casting,  but 
drawing  in  naught  except  the  un- 
touched bait.  "What  a  weary,  mo- 
notonous life!  "  I  have  thought. 
"Aye,  and  how  weary  and  monoto- 
nous are  our  lives  "  may  some  of  you 
say. 

But  in  the  evening  sit  at  the  thresh- 
54 


Fishers  of  Men 

■old  of  some  humble  fisher's  cottage, 
and  with  brightened  eye  will  he  tell  of 
the  fish  he  has  caught,  with  lowered 
voice  tell  of  the  mysteries  of  the  sea, 
with  swelling  breast  tell  of  the  storms 
he  has  weathered.  Similarly  shall  we 
look  back  in  the  evening  of  life,  and 
recounting  the  struggles,  the  tempta- 
tions, the  victories  of  our  career,  re- 
joice to  say  in  the  words  of  St.  Paul, 
— "  I  have  fought  a  good  fight,  I  have 
finished  my  course,  I  have  kept  the 
faith.  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for 
me  a  crown  of  righteousness,  which 
the  Lord,  the  righteous  judge,  shall  give 
me  at  that  day."    (2  Tim.  iv.  7,  8.) 

I  would  not,  however,  defer  to  that 
far  distant  day  the  exultation  of  a 
righteous  life.  There  is  a  present  joy 
amid  the  very  weariness  of  the  strug- 
gle of  a  righteous  life.  To  overcome, 
sends  a  thrill  of  new  life  through  our 
veins;  to  be  overcome,  saps  the  last 
vestige  of  our  energy.  You  may  have 
dropped  your  line  lazily  over  the  side 
55 


Fishers  of  Men 

of  a  boat  in  the  early  morn,  but  as  the 
sun  mounts  the  heavens  your  foot  lags 
toward  home,  unless  you  are  weighted 
down  with  some  catch.  All  day  long 
may  you  have  followed  the  rocky 
slope  of  the  winding,  dashing,  splash- 
ing trout  stream,  clambering  over 
slippery  stones,  waist  deep  in  the 
water,  trying  with  one  fly  after  an- 
other to  lure  the  speckled  prey  from 
its  haunts,  but  in  the  dusk  your  weary 
homeward  steps  still  have  the  spring- 
ing tread  of  joy,  if  you  bear  a  few 
shining  prizes  of  skill  and  untiring 
effort. 

Don't  forget  as  you  go  forth  to  your 
daily  call  of  life,  that  you  can  be  a 
fisher  of  men;  for  many  an  erring  soul 
has  been  caught  by  a  warm  hand 
grasp  and  kindly  word  of  sympathy; 
many  a  blackened  life  has  risen  from 
the  murky  depths  of  sin  at  the  gleam 
of  a  bright  smile  and  friendly  encour- 
agement. So  neglect  not  the  gift  that 
is  within  you. 

56 


Fishers  of  Men 

Don't  expect  a  man  to  be  led  from 
sin  to  salvation  by  your  first  word. 
As  you  choose  your  bait  in  fishing,  so 
you  must  choose  your  way  of  helping 
each  man.  A  piece  of  red  flannel  may 
do  for  a  crab,  an  angle-worm  for  a 
sun  fish,  but  to  catch  a  trout  you  need 
a  carefully  feathered  hook,  a  pliant 
rod  and  reel.  The  common  saying  is 
"you  catch  more  flies  with  molasses 
than  you  can  with  vinegar."  So  in 
the  catching  of  fish  and  of  men,  be 
wise,  be  patient,  be  kind.  The  kind- 
liness of  Christ  need  be  yours  lest  the 
sin-sore  soul  shrink  within  itself  by 
boorish  handling.  A  fish  cannot  be 
jerked  from  the  water  as  soon  as  you 
feel  the  pull.  Jerk,  and  your  fish  will 
go  away  with  a  torn  mouth  or  with 
your  last  hook.  No!  you  can't  be 
hasty  and  harsh.  You  must  play  your 
fish  by  giving  him  the  line  when  he 
makes  a  mad  dash  from  you.  Then 
when  the  line  slackens,  you  can  pull 
him  toward  you.  As  long  as  you 
57 


Fishers  of  Men 

keep  the  fish  on  the  hook,  each  wild 
rush  will  but  tire,  while  each  reeling 
in  will  be  nearer  the  shore.  Thus, 
gently  and  patiently  lead  a  sinner  to 
Christ.  Despair  not.  Each  wild  dash 
and  relapse  into  sin  will  but  tire  and 
disgust  a  man  if  you  keep  in  touch 
with  him.  While  the  hold  which  you 
retain  may  draw  him  gradually  nearer 
the  cross.  Be  thoughtfully  sympa- 
thetic and  you  have  attracted  and 
hooked;  be  perseveringly  patient  and 
you  have  played  and  landed  a  sinner 
at  Christ's  feet.  He  will  in  mercy 
bend,  bless,  change  that  life  which 
would  have  been  wasted,  or  worse, 
eternally  lost.  So  neglect  not  the  gift 
that  is  within  you. 

You  all  know  your  own  weaknesses. 
Then  like  a  fisherman  beholding  a 
school  of  fish  and  drawing  his  seine 
around  them,  do  you  draw  the  net  of 
Christ's  purifying  love  and  help  about 
your  frailties,  and  cast  them  forth  to 
perish  upon  the  sands  of  self-search- 
58 


Fishers  of  Men 

ing  and  under  the  burning  rays  of  the 
Holy  Spirit's  power.     For 

"  Men  may  rise  on  stepping  stones 

Of  their  dead  selves  to  higher  things." 

You  have  all  at  some  time  in  life 
tasted  the  joy  of  achievement.  Call 
to  mind  the  past  happiness  of  conquer- 
ing some  difficulty,  some  infirmity, 
and  "Be  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  your 
mind.  And — put  on  the  new  man, 
which  after  God  is  created  in  right- 
eousness and  true  holiness."   (Phil.  iv. 

23-) 

The  wisdom  of  the  Proverbs  de- 
clares,— 

"Behold  the  righteous  shall  be  rec- 
ompensed in  the  earth. 

"  How  much  more  the  wicked  and 
the  sinner!  (xi.  31.) 

"The  wicked  earneth  deceitful 
wages. 

"  But  he  that  soweth  righteousness 
hath  a  sure  reward."     (xi.  18.) 


59 


Fishers  of  Men 

Benediction:  "Now,  unto  Him  that 
is  able  to  keep  you  from  falling,  and 
present  you  faultless  before  the  pres- 
ence of  His  glory,  with  an  exceeding 
joy,  to  the  only  wise  God,  our  Saviour, 
be  glory  and  majesty,  dominion  and 
power,  now  and  forever.     Amen." 


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